


Monsters

by Anonymous



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Breathplay, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Double Anal Penetration, Drowning, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Literally a sniktcest snuff-fest, M/M, Mention of Castration, Multi, Rape, Temporary Character Death, Threesome - M/M/M, Violent Sex, author is ashamed but horny, garbage party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:21:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28671435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When Logan drowns Daken, the younger mutant uses his feromones in a failed attempt to sway his father, prompting Logan to violently rape him while not in control of his own actions. Sabretooth and Wildchild, however, are perfectly in control.
Relationships: Daken Akihiro/Logan, Daken Akihiro/Victor Creed, Daken Akihiro/Victor Creed/Logan, Daken Akihiro/Victor Creed/Logan/Kyle Gibney, Logan/Kyle Gibney, Victor Creed/Logan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5
Collections: Anonymous





	Monsters

Daken can't breathe. He can't move. He can't fight his father or reason with him, and the air in his lungs is running out fast. He cannot do anything except use his feromones, in the hope that it will sway Logan to show mercy or distract him with arousal.  
The musky-sweet scent hits Logan hard and that's all the warning he has before his grim resolve turns to lust and rage. He never felt anything like this.  
Any human morality, any protective instinct of the beast, fades away, replaced with the urge to use, claim the body beneath him, feel it struggle and die on his cock. He is a monster of Creed's caliber, except entirely unaware of his own depravity. Grip on the boy's head still firm, he slices through both their clothes and rips the fabric away, shoves into the tight little asshole raw and dry, ignoring Daken's struggle to get away the same way he ignores his struggle to breathe.  
"Slut like you, I wasn't expecting you to be so tight. Taking every cock in the neighborhood and you still manage to keep a tight ass for daddy to ruin."  
He comes so fast, shooting deep into that hot little hole, holding the boy down by his ridiculous hair, but doesn't go soft or let up. Daken's thrashing feels so good, hole tightening as his entire body writhes on Logan's cock desperately. He doesn't know how many times he shoots, slicking tight hole with his own cum until it feels like a wet, slick pussy. All he knows is he's having the best fuck of his life and needs to come again. Daken gets hard sometime during this, and cums, tightening on Logan's cock and painting the air with the sweet scent of his cum, but he keeps struggling, keeps smelling terrified and unwilling, and the mixture of fear and pleasure goes to Logan's head, pools lust in his belly, draws orgasm after orgasm from his balls until he feels it trickling down to them where it leaks out around his shaft. Daken's trashing becomes more chaotic, then weaker, then stops, and then the rapid tattoo of his heart follows, slowing and faltering and skipping until it is silent entirely. Still and silent and blessedly pliant. Logan loves him this way and he tells him so, in filthy words gasped as he comes for a last time, how he's such a better fuck dead and how that tight, hot pussy still feels alive and how much he got off on feeling him die on his old man's cock.  
The lust fades with the feromones.  
All that's left is love and mindbreaking grief, until Logan wants to drown himself next, anything to stop feeling this. He turns the body chest-up, gently closes the glassy eyes that seem to accuse him, horribly right. He holds on to the body, sobbing, feeling sick in a way the healing factor cannot fix.  
The body stirs, ugly-coughs, bringing up water and mucus from cyanotic lips. Logan wants to cry with relief when the boy clings to him, opens his eyes.  
"I'm sorry, daddy," he whispers weakly, barely a sound. Logan gathers his son to his chest, mindless of the mess they both are.  
"So am I. I will never do that again, promise. I love you."  
Up close, Daken's breath smells like carbon dioxide and lactic acid and muddy water and terror but he breathes, and speaks, and lives.  
Almost smiles as he whispers, lacing the words with a feeble touch of his enthralling feromones:  
"I wouldn't mind repeating the getting fucked bit, it felt good. Please daddy, I want to feel alive."  
Between the feromones and his overwhelming guilt, Logan can't bring himself to refuse. He slides into the wet, loose hole, thrusting gently, aiming for the prostate. Daken is content to lie there, taking it, breathing slowly, gathering his strength, aching hard but doing nothing to stroke himself. Logan is so focused on the younger mutant, on pleasuring him and watching him return to life, he doesnt even notice Sabretooth  
"Not so high 'n' mighty now ,eh, Runt? Said ya were so much better than me, yet here ya are, fuckin' yer mongrel son's pretty corpse. 'Cept he ain't all dead, is he?", adds creed as Daken turns his head to hack up mucky slime. "Think choking on a cock gonna fix that?"  
"No, please, Victor. Take me, kill me, fuck me... He's close enough to dead, I'm well enough to torture properly before killing."  
"Never thought ya'd ask for it, runt. I like it." And he kisses Logan, a long smacker with plenty of teeth and tongue that he knows the smaller feral hates.  
"Please," whispers Daken pleadingly. "I want to see if daddy can come from getting his ass fucked raw while getting choked to death like I did."  
Creed strokes a pair of claws down Daken's face.  
"Don'cha worry none, pretty thing. Yer daddy's been milking my cock with his death throes since long before yer little slut ass was in tha picture."  
That's all the warning before Creed rips away Logan's spandex and rams into him, claws scraping bone on his hip and chest for leverage, and he would normally hate it, he does hate it, but between the pliant, relaxed body beneath him and whatever Daken's done to make him so much more horny and sensitive, it feels good. He comes, squeezing Creed's cock, spilling into Daken, not going soft for a moment.  
And Creed chooses that moment to start strangling him, a clawed hand wrapped around Logan's throat constricting it, letting up for just a bit and squeezing again like he's jerking a cock. Logan is powerless to stop it, powerless to stop enjoying it, arousal pooling in his belly, making him thrust and twist and writhe, craving for air, craving for pleasure, nothing but a slave to the conflicting urges of his body, a toy to the two men using him.  
Daken comes with a deep hoarse groan, cum pooling on his chiseled abdomen to flow down in absurd little rivulets. He's looking better now, less ashen, more aware, lips pink rather than blue. And he's pulling himself up into Logan's lap, holding the older mutant's face in his hands, kissing him sloppily, rubbing against him, riding his cock, whispering "Please, daddy, cum in me like you did to mama" and Logan thinks that maybe if he's lucky, his oldest enemy and wayward son will kill him for good.  
He comes with that thought, half-glad, half-miserable and all desperate to breathe, the orgasm purely physical and yet overwhelming in its intensity.  
He's barely aware of Daken whispering to him "thank you for coming in me, daddy" and "you're so pretty when you die, I get why you got off on killing me if I get it from you" before the entire world fades to darkness.  
His awareness returns slowly. He feels like he has been put through a thresher, then a woodchipper, then run over with a tank for good measure. There's pointy teeth in him, and a thick cock against his back, claws on his body and for a moment he thinks Creed is still playing with him before he realises the body is much slighter, the smell both cleaner and harsher.   
Kyle's voice whispers to him: "Oh you're back. Good. I find it no fun to fuck and bleed something already dead. Especially since they don't bleed much."  
And then Kyle shoves in, true to his word, balls deep, claws in Logan's flesh.   
"Look up. He suggests. Your son is having the time of his life fucking Sabretooth."  
Logan doesn't want to look, but he can hear and smell it, less than a yard away, the slap of flesh and moans of two voices, the cum and blood and those damned feromones, stoking the used-up ache of his cock and balls into the tension of arousal. Kyle is a little nicer than Sabretooth but not by much. Where Sabretooth would have been happiest to rip Logan open with his cock, Kyle is content to just use him; where Creed would have mauled with his teeth, Kyle bites deeply but abstains from ripping off flesh with his teeth. Where Creed would surely enjoy castrating Logan with his claws or fangs, possibly after enough play to make him swollen with blood and desperate to come, Kyle simply strokes with a blood-slicked hand, claws nicking shallowly to draw more blood.  
"Look," he whispers. "I never saw someone enjoy being fucked by Sabretooth so much."  
And it's true. Daken is riding Creed with abandon, head thrown back, dick swollen and flushed and dripping cum, blood streaming free from his wounds.  
"No offence, Logan, but you're less fun than seeing if your son can take two cocks up his ass and still enjoy it," says Kyle as he pushes Logan's face down into the dirt, claws scratching his neck. A burst of feromones from Daken reveals what he thinks of it and Logan can't help but think of it too, that sweet tightness tighter yet and slicked by blood as Logan presses his dick in beside another. He comes from the thought, balls and cock and entire body aching from it, and Kyle mercifully leaves him on the ground, getting up to slide into Daken from behind, claws in his hips and teeth in his neck to pin him in place. Logan can smell blood flowing from Daken's ass with every thrust. Creed obviously enjoys it too, stiffening and cursing as he comes, adding more cum to the already overwhelming mixture of scents in the air. And then Daken just punches both sets of claws into Creed's chest. Logan has been on those claws, he knows how much it hurts but he also has had Creed on his claws, so he knows how little Creed is deterred by the pain. And true to that, Creed keeps thrusting, moaning in pleasure, even as he heaves and chokes up blood from shredded lungs, even as he struggles for air. Logan doesn't know how long it takes, all he knows is his worst enemy must be be suffering horribly and still, somehow, enjoying it. And then Kyle leans forward, grabs Sabretooth's hair and pulls him forward, deeper onto Daken's claws, reaches over Daken's shoulder to rip out Creed's throat with his teeth.   
"Payback," he whispers, smiling as he licks his lips and Daken's shoulder and a still conscious Creed's neck of blood.   
Logan's patience runs out then. Not caring if he is putting Creed out of his misery or ruining his fun, he punches a set of claws through his brain, killing him instantly, massive body shuddering with something that looks entirely like pleasure and slumping, eyes open and empty.


End file.
